When I was six, my father decided we would grow a vegetable garden in our back yard.  I was thrilled, but this was no small back yard endeavor.  We lived on twenty acres and our new “back yard” project was at least an acre.  It had never been planted before so my memory is of back breaking work to till the soil then build up the rows, then planting seedlings we had sprouted in our garage.  We planted all sorts of vegetables that I didn’t like to eat, I knew that because they were exactly the same ones we bought at the grocery store. I remember thinking it was an awful lot of work for something we could just buy at the store to not eat. It did not escape me that this seemed like a lot of effort and expense for something that wasn’t very expensive or attractive to begin with.  But that was my opinion.  I know my dad surely had his reasons for planting a garden and those were surely fulfilled.

We did this for a couple of years, then we didn’t do it anymore and the St. Augustine grass took over the ground we had worked so hard to expose the seasons before.  You would think I would never want to do this again, EVER.  But I have kept a vegetable garden in my own yard for over 15 years.  My vegetable garden is quite different from that first one, because it is mine, and because my garden intentions are probably very different than my father’s.  I didn’t make my kids help me, but I think they appreciated my garden and still do.  This is why my garden stays around.